


Something

by romanticalgirl



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://fatema.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://fatema.livejournal.com/"></a><b>fatema</b> in the Massive Flist Fic Exchange of Doom.  Mr. G, btw, will NEVER forgive me.</p><p>Originally posted 8-24-06</p>
    </blockquote>





	Something

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://fatema.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fatema.livejournal.com/)**fatema** in the Massive Flist Fic Exchange of Doom. Mr. G, btw, will NEVER forgive me.
> 
> Originally posted 8-24-06

It’s dark and it’s late, and Jamie slumps against the wall in his trailer, too tired to move, much less summon the energy required to stand and walk and drive and go home. Home’s a distant thing, too far away, like Earth on the show. Sort of something to strive for, but nothing really _real_.

He’s not bothered to turn the lights on, as he’s almost ready to just fall asleep right here. Shooting’s run over, mistakes and accidents like something out of an old movie, and everything’s fallen behind and he’s worn down and worn out and he’s really more than content to stay right here on his arse until someone rouses him for his morning call.

The door opens and he cracks an eye, annoyed with the intrusion of light as it shifts and shimmers through the darkness. It’s blocked by movement and a figure, and heat clutches at his stomach. He’d forgotten this or hadn’t thought about. Hadn’t let himself think.

“Hey.”

He can almost see her smile as she moves in and shuts the door behind her. She’s got a wide smile that’s full of life and mischief, but right now it seems as tired as he is, even though it’s still bright. She sinks onto the cot next to him and curls against him, her head against his chest and his arm somehow finding its way around her. He kisses her temple and it’s all innocence.

He’s almost sure.

“Hey yourself.”

“Late.” She yawns and moves closer, her hand in a fist against his chest, her thumb stroking him through the thin cotton of the tanks. “Tired.”

“Mmm.” He doesn’t know that much more is warranted from him, but it doesn’t feel enough so he kisses her temple again, nuzzling at her short hair. It smells of shampoo and make-up and sweat, and it’s as soft as it seems it should be, downy against his skin. He feels his body start to react, so he kisses her softly again, this time letting his lips brush the crinkled laugh lines that bracket her eye.

She exhales and it fans warm and gentle across his chest. She’s looking up at him now and, even though he can’t see her eyes in the darkness, he can feel them, just as vividly as he feels her hand slowly make its way down his chest, his stomach. “Jamie.”

He swallows and kisses her, tongue parting her lips easily. She moans into the kiss, her mouth opening to his, easy and slow as he tastes her. She’s never aggressive in this, letting him take the lead, probably because he’s got the most to lose.

His hand flattens on her back and he rubs slow circles against the fabric before sliding beneath her tanks and feeling the flare of hot flesh. She moans again and presses closer, her hand settling easily between his thighs, resting there, so close he can almost feel her touch.

“Yes,” he murmurs into her mouth, groaning in response as she touches him. Her hand is rough and gentle all at once, knowing what he likes as she applies pressure, strokes the length of him through the uniform trousers. His free hand moves up to cup her breast, his thumb grazing the nipple.

“Jamie.” Her voice has that low keen in it that he loves, that pleading heat that slides along his nerves to his groin, pulsing through his cock. He wants to lay her down, wants to slide inside the wet heat he knows is between her legs, but he wants more than that too. Wants her to come to him in more ways than just the ones that bring her walking in his door.

“Katee.” He whispers her name and she shudders, gasping softly. “Katee.”

She pulls away, her eyes wide with emotion, bright with uncertainty. He strokes her cheek with his thumb and brings her in for another kiss, reassurance or something more, he’s not quite sure. Not sure what he means or what he wants or what he’s doing.

She shivers and stands, sliding her tanks over her head. They drop to the floor as silently as his own, and her breasts are creamy pale, even in the darkness. He angles out of his trousers and boxer-briefs as she strips down as well. He can smell the scent of her, something inherently Katee that he washes off, washes away, every time.

She straddles his thighs, warm and slick against him. He groans, letting his head fall back against the wall again as she slides the condom on him. “Jesus,” he whispers as her hands stroke him. “Katee.”

She shakes her head and rests her hands on his shoulders, the shift of her body offering him a closer view of the creamy flesh, the darker blush of her nipple tantalizing against his lips. He takes it in his mouth and she gasps, her fingers pressing hard against his shoulders.

He wants her nails digging into his flesh, and knows she can’t, which makes him want it more, so he grazes her nipple with his teeth. She gasps again, offering his name up to the humid air of his trailer, sliding down onto him. She’s hot and wet and tight around him and she feels as good as she tastes.

His hands find her hips, guiding her along his length, urging her to move faster, harder, to take him deeper. He releases her nipple and murmurs her name against her collarbone, nipping her skin, leaving his mark in lieu of hers on his skin. She shudders and whispers his name like a soft promise of things he’s not allowed to have, not allowed to want, even though she gives them to him time and again.

He slides one hand free of her hip, letting it trail down through the silky tangle of hair between her legs, slide past the wet arc of flesh, rubbing his finger lightly against the parted skin where she surrounds him, lets her feel the hint of intrusion, of more, before sliding it forward and finding her clit.

“Oh…God.” She clenches her hands into fists and pounds on his shoulders, her head falling back. She bites her lower lip in an effort to keep silent, even as he thrusts hard off the cot, deeper inside her, needing her to lose control. “J…Jamie.”

He leans in and bites lightly at her other nipple before he slides his tongue across the hard tip. She groans and shudders again, this time resulting in a sheath of pulsing heat as she comes around him. He huffs a laugh against her skin as she raises her hands to his hair and tugs at the short strands to pull his mouth up to hers.

He comes somewhere lost in the kiss, conscious only of his own hands digging into her hips again, leaving bruises in the wake of his fingers. When they break apart, she smiles and he closes his eyes, running his hands up the length of her back. He can almost feel the sadness as it changes the curve of her lips, changes the feel of her around him.

She slides off of him and begins to dress. He looks at her then, memorizing curves he shouldn’t have ever seen. “Stay.”

She looks up quickly, her eyes bright with something else now, sharp with tears. “What?”

“We get dressed. We both sit on the cot.” He disposes of the condom and stands, knowing that he’s crowding her, wanting more than he’s allowed, wanting almost as much as she wants to give. “We’re both tired.”

She reaches out, her fingers shaking as she touches his chest. “We are.”

“We fall asleep.” He tugs on his clothes, not looking at her. “Noting untoward in that.”

She swallows. “No. Nothing at all.”

He shifts the blanket on the cot then sits down, his position the same as when she’d walked in the door. He looks at her, and he wonders what she sees in him, what she sees at all. She lets out a shuddering breath before she sinks down next to him, tentatively leaning into him. “Hey.”

He wraps his arm around her, willing to take what he can get in the place of something real. “Hey yourself.”  



End file.
